A creaking sound drifted to Sharon, expelling the darkness that held her body bound to the bed. Turning over on her side, she was just in time to watch an older woman make her way into the room.

She expelled a puff of air in surprise, springing to a sitting position as her hands held the covers to her chest. The woman, most likely as shocked as Sharon was, jumped back as well, the laundry basket in her hands emptying its content on the floor.

“Goodness!” The woman gasped, clutching the collar of her blue dress. “Who are you?!”

Sharon sat, tongue tied by the presence of the stranger in her room.

“And is that my night dress?” Thick raven brows pulled together to form a frown.

Glancing down sharply to look at the dress she was clad in, Sharon turned her attention back to the stranger. “Yo—your dress?”

The woman bobbed her head. “Looks like my dress to me.” She raised her brow in question, her fists settling on her rounded hips.

Realizing then who she was, Sharon's gaze settled on the white apron around her waist.

“You must be Nana.” Sharon began after several seconds of silence. The woman's reference to the dress reminded her of what Matthew had said about the dress belonging to his housekeeper and the apron did more than enough to jolt Sharon's memory.

“And you are?” She watched her suspiciously.

“Sharon, Sharon Freelance.”

“That doesn't answer my question, child.”

“I—um— I'm,” Sharon mentally struggled for the right words, but the woman's disapproving gaze on her made it nearly impossible to come up with any.

“Well?” Her brow rose a notch.

“Matthew's wife.” She blurted for a lack of a better term.

“His wife?!” Nana Lois half screeched.

Nodding, Sharon scrambled out of the bed, still clutching the white sheets to herself.

“Well, when did you two get married?”

“While you were away,” Sharon stood nervously by the bed, hoping the woman would take what she wanted and just leave. There was something intimidating about Nana Lois; something that made Sharon feel like a child who was being scolded by her mother for doing something terribly wrong.

“I see,” brown eyes ran down the length of her as Nana Lois began covering the distance between them.

Tightening her hold on the sheets, Sharon watched her approach.

“I should be mad at Matthew for getting married without having the decency to tell me, but I suppose he truly didn't have that much time left,” she said, pausing before Sharon, “seems to me like he also made a great choice. You're a pretty little thing and with just the right amount of care, you'll do just fine raising the young'uns.”

Heat sprang to Sharon's cheek at Nana Lois' reference to children. It was true that as a wife, she was expected to bear children at some point, but her marriage to Matthew wasn't a conventional marriage. They had both gotten married because they needed each other to get what they wanted —for her, to get away from Jenkins, and Matthew, to get his inheritance. But Nana Lois did not know that, nor did she suspect anything to be amiss as she wrapped her arms around Sharon, pulling her into a warm embrace.

“Welcome to the family, Sharon.” She murmured, releasing her hold on her.

“Thank you.” Sharon nodded her appreciation.

“I guess I'll just grab the laundry and be on my merry way. I already started breakfast. Soon as you're ready, come right down, will you?”

Moving out of Nana Lois's way so she could grab the sheets on the bed, Sharon nodded. “Of course. And if you need me to help with anythin—”

“I could use some help with getting those back into the basket.” She motioned to the discarded pile on clothes by the door.

“Sure.” Making her way over to the doorway, Sharon gathered the clothes back into the basket and placed the sheet she had been using as a shield against Nana Lois in there as well. Lifting the basket up, she held it before her chest. “All done,”

“Great.” Nana Lois crossed the room carrying an arm full of sheets. Stuffing them in the basket, she relieved Sharon of it. “Hurry up and have breakfast,” she said, exiting the room.

Heaving a nervous breath, Sharon closed the door and crossed the room. She perched on the edge of the bed, uncertain about going down the stairs for anything. Not only did she dread having to endure the presence of Matthew's family —especially Gretchen— she dreaded having to face Matthew. She wondered about his sleeping arrangements the night before, afraid he would think she had locked him out on purpose. She wondered if he would confront her for it, or if his family's presence would force him to ignore her terrible mistake.

Rising to her feet, Sharon decided she would delay her breakfast. She would stay up in her room for as long as it would take for Matthew and his entire family to eat, and once she had worked up the nerves to go down the stairs, she would blame her tardiness to breakfast on her restlessness through the night.

She walked over to the window, shoving the curtains aside to let the sunlight into the room. She made to turn around when the sight of the wagon coming to a halt before the building, drew her attention.

Pausing, she stared down curiously at the wagon. It was nearly impossible to see its occupants from where she stood and for a second, she contemplated turning from the window, but just as quickly as the thought raced through her head, Matthew jumped down the side of the wagon.

Clad in a white shirt and dark brown pants, Sharon's gaze followed Matthew as he made his way around the wagon. His hair, most likely ruffled by the breeze, gave him a rugged appearance that made him appear even more handsome than in the past.

A smile settled on Sharon's face at the thought. It was true that their marriage was nothing but a lie, but Sharon couldn't help but think she had been fortunate to end up with one of the most handsome man in town —handsome and decent. And in Ferndale, there were not many of those. She wasn't certain she would ever admit to it out loud, but for the first time since she agreed to be his wife, Sharon thought that perhaps she might have made the right decision. Matthew Steiner was unlike any man she had ever met —he worked hard and made decent money. He hadn't been to the tavern since they got married and she hadn't smelled a whiff of liquor on him even for a second. If she was going to tell herself the truth, then she would admit that she didn't stand the chance of ever meeting a man that was better than Matthew.

Perhaps she must give him a chance? Perhaps something sensible could come of their unusual union? She wasn't foolish enough to believe that they could ever fall in love, but companionship was indeed possible. And security? It was something she had never had; it was also something she truly believed Matthew could provide.

Just as the thought began to settle in, broadening the smile on her face, Sharon watched Gretchen jump down the wagon, nearly tripping on her dress.

The smile on her face died as she watched Gretchen hurriedly make her way to Matthew who was about to climb up the front porch. She grabbed his forearm, forcing him to a stop.

Leaning forward, Sharon's body pressed against the window pane in a failed attempt to hear the conversation between the two. Unable to hear them, Sharon focused her attention on Gretchen's hand that was now moving seductively up Matthew's arm.

Instinctively, her fingers curled around the curtains, threatening to pull them down as she watched Gretchen lean forward, closing the gap between their bodies. Matthew stood still, their lips only an inch apart.

With her heartbeat slowing down for reasons beyond her, common sense urged Sharon to turn from the window and deprive herself of the scene that was certainly about to take place. But against common sense, Sharon stood frozen to the spot, mentally urging Matthew to pull away.

Surely he knew he was a married man! Perhaps their vows meant nothing to either of them, but common sense and decency urged them both to respect those vows until they were legally broken.

Still, Matthew did not pull away. He instead stood still as his lips and Gretchen’s connected, causing Sharon's heart to sink.